


Business As Usual

by Strewn_Limbs



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Gen, Gotham City - Freeform, Implied Nygmobblepot, Implied Relationships, Murder Family, Nygmobblepot, Sign Language, business as usual, could be read as just friends if you ignore implications, has the characters but doesn't follow tv canon, meeting out of hand, mute character, this could be awful could be alright let's see, trying to get into writing again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 05:53:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14254395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strewn_Limbs/pseuds/Strewn_Limbs
Summary: Martin is invited to learn about the family business.And although meetings are not normally exciting, anything is possible with Penguin in charge.It's business as usual to get back on top.





	Business As Usual

Martin’s eyes flicked between the many different men gathered around the elongated table in a room he was unfamiliar with, taking in the faces of corrupt political leaders, big business moguls, and crime boss wannabes with curiosity. Round eyes picking up movements from the less than savory company, sitting quietly to the side as his new father-figure lead a meeting.

The boy had understood the meeting was important, why in the long run he wasn’t sure, but from what he took of his adoptive parent’s warning; changes were coming. 

\---

_“Martin,” Penguin had began, pacing several steps back and forth with an index finger pointed at the ceiling, hobbling by the boy several times in his warning. “There are going to be big things happen in Gotham. I may no longer be Mayor of this city, but I will still have it under my control!” He declared, his raised hand dropping to clench in a fist at his side. “Mark my words, Martin, they are going to regret locking me away. Leaving me to rot in that disgusting, filthy rat’s nest. Hah! Oh they will see what their actions have caused, the folly in their decisions.”_

_Oswald reached for his cane on a nearby chaise lounge, limping over to Martin’s side. “Now, come. I want you to witness the makings of a brilliant scheme in action. This may all be yours someday and I wish for you to be prepared.” With his free hand the older man gestured to the door of the office they spoke in, ushering Martin out while he followed closely behind._

\---

Martin sat in his own chair, a tall, elaborately detailed chair with arms he wasn’t tall enough yet to put his limbs on. His feet dangled above the floor, legs gently swaying forward and back underneath him as his ears stayed trained on the conversation happening. 

Penguin’s fist hit the table when the CEO of what he would describe as a _‘wasteful, second rate, hack’_ journalism company attempted to voice opinions in a place he clearly wasn’t meant to. None of them were truly there to speak their minds, or to have a say in the new movement of Gotham’s underground. They were there to listen. They were there to hear Oswald’s plan and agree, that was all. Martin didn’t flinch nearly as much at his stand-in father’s outbursts as he used to, as now he expected reactions when there was a group in the room. 

Someone always said something his Dad wouldn't like, they didn’t know how to talk to him. Which, he really wasn’t the worst man. He could get a little snappy at times, but Martin found Penguin rather agreeable. He just wanted what was best for the city and for his adopted son, Martin understood that. The boy was happy to have a real home. To have someone who cared so deeply for his well being. 

When a body moved in front of Martin, the boy blinked heavily, not having noticed he was staring quite as hard as he was. His small hands rose to rub at his eyes, flushing the dried feeling he gained with that natural moisture under his lids. The body dropped down to a crouch in front of him, the all black attire, holsters, and shaved head being a known face to Martin at this point. Zsasz grinned to the boy, raising his two hands to sign a message to the person he was told to protect at any cost. The assassin, turned part-time babysitter, was in the steps of teaching Martin proficient sign language. Whispering as he signed slowly to be sure every word he made was recognized. _“Do you need anything, buddy?”_

_“No.”_

Zsasz shook his head at Martin, looking for more of an answer in order to fully use the skills he’d been showing the boy. Just a yes or no didn’t cut it, you didn’t learn by cutting corners. _“No… what?”_ He pressed, eyes fixated on Martin with brows raised while he awaited the reply.

Martin had to think for a moment, instinctively wanting to reach for his pen and pad of paper, but his hands merely raised. He was beyond grabbing for the paper and denying himself after the last two weeks of training. Still, they raised in front of his chest before pausing fingers curled as he decided what words he needed. _“No, I’m okay right now, thank you.”_

The answer was more pleasing to Zsasz as the killer nodded, ruffling Martin’s hair with a smile. “That’s better. Alright, let me know if you do, Champ.” He spoke aloud, standing back up to walk his way to the other side of the room. He too was tasked to watch the room. Where Martin was there to learn, Zsasz was there to handle anything that might arise. His professional level of picking up on emotional, physical, and verbal cues were a valuable asset. One that Penguin made sure to use to its fullest whenever possible.

A knock at the door had every eye in the room glancing to the source of the sound, Penguin stiffly sitting back in his chair again. “Come in.” He beckoned, knowing quite well who should be on the other side of the barriers. The door pushed inwards to allow a tall man with folders in one hand to enter, his dark hair coiffed back over his head neatly without a hair out of place. “Ed, excellent timing. Please, do share what you’ve found with the rest of the class.” Oswald gestured a hand to address everyone at the table, his voice straining to maintain the patience he’d managed to keep to this point.

Edward’s smile took the attention of everyone first, seeming welcoming at first though his eyes gave him away. Behind the horn-rimmed glasses were a pair of eyes that couldn’t hide just how smug the man was with his recent findings. “Gentlemen, hello. Wonderful to see you all here today.” 

Well shined dress shoes lead Ed’s way, the man walking behind each invited attendee to place a folder in front of them. “Mr. Smith, that spray tan is doing you wonders.” Ed chuckled, setting the first of many document holders down. “Mr. Ferrangi, how’s the missus? And the second, lesser known, missus?” If there was anything Penguin’s right-hand man had, it was information. He had information, facts, answers, and questions in spades. “Ahh, Mr. Edwards, still love the name. So dignified, classic.” Ed chuckled, getting to the last two men at the table eventually, staring between them and the last folder he had.

“To be quite honest, I think someone counted wrong. So, you two are just going to have to share.” He admitted easily, placing the last set of documents between the two business men without a care. 

Mr. Ferrangi, clearly unsettled by the knowledge he was greeted with, shifted in his chair, refusing to touch the folder in any way. “Penguin, what is the meaning of this mockery?” His glare met Ed’s face, the taller man simply smiling back as cheerful as could be.

Martin could see the shift in his father’s posture, having gone from rigid to relaxed over the course of his ‘friend’ walking into the room. That was how he had to refer to the man who often dressed in a green suit, that was what he was told to use. Despite Oswald’s hatred of the word before, it seemed to be the most common word for Ed. Martin didn’t mind the man in green though, he didn’t treat him like a kid. To Edward, Martin was simply a tiny adult. 

Though that was through no intended respect for the boy, Ed just didn’t know what to do with kids. He treated every child as though they were an adult. However, he also spoke to most adults as if they were children. So, perhaps there was a teenage level of average address he maintained with most people. 

Penguin sat upright in his chair, hand moving to his cane to brace the walking stick between his palm and the floor. “Mockery? Ed, I don’t think they take too kindly to your greetings.” 

“It appears not, Oswald.” 

“A shame, truly.” Penguin shrugged, eyes glancing up from under his brow as a grin formed across his mouth. “After all that time you spent getting to know them so intimately, and they can’t appreciate a job well done. A wasted effort in their eyes, I imagine.” 

“You’re not answering me.” Mr. Ferrangi claimed, his open hand landing on the table with a heavy slap. “What is the meaning of this disrespect?” Clearly the man had taken the aired laundry rather personally and those were only the ice chips coming from the tip of the iceberg. 

Penguin rolled his eyes, not feeling an absolute need to explain himself or Ed’s actions as they were his orders earlier. Using his cane as leverage Penguin stood from his seat, his polite grin pasted over an exasperated expression. “Ed, if you would.” He offered his cane with the penguin head topper to the tall man, ready to call the real meeting to order.

“With pleasure.” Edward accepted the offering of the cane, taking it with him as he stood back to give Penguin room to talk to the people at the table. Martin stared at Ed carefully, watching how he stood with the cane under both palms, leaning against it with a long smile across his face. 

Oswald took in a deep breath, composing himself with his eyes closed before glaring daggers at the men before him. “Gentlemen, there seems to be a traitor in our midst.” His hands held the table’s edge, fingertips turning white from the pressure against the wood. “Now, I understand the allure of power and control. I really do. There’s nothing wrong with trying to get what you believe you deserve. Why, none of us would be where we are today if we didn’t try to take what we wanted.” Penguin began, his head bobbing along to his words as though he was speaking of something positive. 

“However, when you are the one being betrayed for this quest of power. Well… how can you not take that personally? It hurts, gentlemen, it really does.” Penguin raised one of his hands to his chest, head sloping forward slightly to reflect the pain he spoke of. “I’ve found ways to combat these feelings though. A way to work through those feelings positively! To make that backstabbing into positive thinking in the end.” He smiled, the hand over his chest turning into a fist while he continued his speech. “And I am quite positive you’ll see my point.” 

Martin’s eyes noted Ed taking his weight off the cane, the man slinking about one side of the table while Penguin spoke, twirling the cane in his hands like a baton as he walked behind Mr. Ferrangi. 

Oswald made brief eye contact with Martin, giving the boy a curt nod in warning before his attention returned to the table. The boy was well aware a split-second decision could be the difference between life or death. And he couldn’t always be shielded from the work that his Dad and his dad’s ‘friend’ did. He was given warning when possible, but when he was one day expected to take over Penguin’s rule he knew he needed to get used to seeing things he normally wouldn’t. Even shouldn’t, as a child.

Martin’s hands raised slightly, Zsasz making his way closer to the boy, ready to stand in should anything happen. The babysitter took his job seriously, and he rather liked the kid. Martin was a good kid, good listener, and he seemed to not care too much about what they did for a living. It was like having his own nephew or something, someone to have milkshakes with on weekdays in the middle of the afternoon for fun. 

Ed placed a hand on Mr. Ferrangi’s shoulder, smiling as he leaned forward against the cane, glancing out of his peripherals to look at the business man’s face. “What did the man say when he got pancake mix on the ceiling?” He questioned the already perturbed man, standing back as Mr. Ferrangi turned around in attempts to face off against Ed.

“What?! Are you being serious?!”

The man in the green suit smiled wider, showing off all his teeth, grabbing the cane in both hands now. “Batter up!” Edward called, pulling back the cane so he could swing it forward with the momentum he could muster in the moment. The metal penguin head met Mr. Ferrangi’s skull, the impact causing a sickening crack to be heard throughout the room. The rest of the men at the table creating a split set of reactions between quiet acceptance or surprised horror. 

Mr. Ferrangi’s nose had been met with the bulk of the metal penguin head, the beak on the handle piercing his upper lip, breaking teeth, and puncturing into his mouth. Ed merely grinned, pulling back the cane to draw it from its resting place in the man’s face. “I never was much of a sports guy.” He replied mostly to himself, the now profusely bleeding businessman who cried out in pain, attempted to clutch at his face until any contact brought about a new wave pain. “Looks like I hit a fowl ball.” He laughed aloud at his own joke, thoroughly enjoying the wordplay in the moment of violence. 

Martin had flinched upon impact, his hands shooting up to his eyes to block the view of the now more disturbing looking man. He tried to handle it, he really did. He knew that this was his destiny one day, but for now he was still at levels of manslaughter, willful destruction of personal property, and arson. Direct, active violence was not yet his forte. Zsasz put a hand on Martin’s shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. The kid had the makings of a criminal mastermind, but he was still young. This kind of act took time to get used to. 

Penguin kept a straight face, not about to let Ed’s amusement break his serious mood at the moment. They would laugh about it later, together. For the moment, he had to maintain control on the room even while Mr. Ferrangi howled in pain, crumpling onto his floor. “Now. I do believe I make myself clear when I say that your participation here is not to be involved directly, per se. You fine, upstanding men of the city are here-” Mr. Ferrangi let out a scream, interrupting Penguin’s monologue, feeling the waves of pain through his face now that the initial shock had worn off. “You are here to-” 

“Please… someone…”

Penguin’s lower jaw pushed forward, clearly annoyed by the consistent butting in. A hand raised to his temple, brushing over the skin there gently. It finished its job there, going under the table edge to grab a gun. A momentary aim, and Oswald pulled the trigger. A bullet went through Mr. Ferrangi’s skull, piercing him through the back of the head, hitting Ed and several of the meeting members with bits of blood and brain matter. 

“Now. May I finish?!” Penguin asked with impatience heavy in his voice, looking to wrap up the chaotic gathering. The gun hit the table, slapped down by his hand as his mouth pursed with annoyance. A soft mumbling of agreement circled the table, heads nodding cautiously for him to continue. “Excellent, thank you.” The weapon was kept out, staying on the table as a reminder that perhaps this was a one-sided conversation. Ed remained amused, crouching beside the body to examine the bullet hole further and to take in his own damage caused to learn. “You are here to be apart of something larger than yourselves. Do note, that although your participation is highly valued you’re really here to learn about future goings on. This is for your benefit. Information so that you may adjust plans around this information and be able to raise yourselves beyond the means you have currently.” 

Oswald sat himself back down in his chair slowly, using the table to help support his right side more while he sunk into his seat. “You may either take this advice and use it to your advantage, or you can get in the way. And might I suggest you do not do the latter. Although I am a patient man I will not be lenient to those who attempt to fight back, they will be handled swiftly and with no mercy.” His eyes briefly met the corpse on his floor, staining the rug as it remained in place, Ed took Mr. Ferrangi’s folder, leaving the body to join Penguin at his end of the table again. 

“Have I made myself clear, gentlemen?” Murmuring of agreement took to the air, causing Oswald to grin warmly. “Good, I’m glad that we could see eye to eye and come to this agreement. You may go. Take your folders with you, they contain delicate information that you do not want to be without when the time comes.” He ended the meeting, watching carefully as each man took a dossier and cautiously left the room. 

Ed grinned at the man sitting closest to Penguin, holding the blood flecked document out to him. “Seems as though we didn’t miscount after all, I made the perfect amount. Isn’t that lucky?” He questioned the businessman who nodded quickly back, taking the folder without hesitation and vacated from the room. 

Martin was still dealing with the shock of the meeting, though once his Dad had shot the man it made it a lot easier to handle. The active yelling and pain he also was not very good at, but shooting didn’t seem so bad. It was usually over quickly, and things went quiet. The peace and quiet was something he’d much prefer. Zsasz walked away from the boy, seeing the guests out of the house with a warm smile. 

With the three, technically four if you counted the corpse, bodies left in the room Penguin let out a long sigh. “Really, Ed? Batter up?” His eyes remained forward on the door, but a smirk played at the corner of his mouth.

“I figured we didn’t have time for a real riddle, that and their cognitive functions seemed to be lacking at best. A dual play pun I think really sealed it.” Edward claimed, taking a seat next to Penguin now that there were open chairs for him to select from.

Oswald’s light colored eyes made their way to Martin, the man patting the chair on his other side to invite the boy over. Martin slid off his chair, feet touching the floor for the first time since he sat down to walk to his adoptive father’s side, hopping himself onto the seat before eyes met with his father’s. 

“Martin, I’m sorry you had to see that, but it’s important in these affairs to maintain control over one’s targets. You must keep fear strong so that no one wishes to oppose you.” He taught the boy a lesson from the gruesome meeting, though it was not his highest body count in one, so truly it was a success. “If they fear you, they will learn respect for you. If they believe that you are weak, they will attack at a moment’s notice. Or worse yet, they will leak your secrets and information.” 

Penguin shook his head gently, head moving to stare out the window. “There are few people you can sincerely trust, Martin. When you find them, I suggest you hold them close to you. Though you must be cautious. Any person can be a liability, even the closest of friends can become a weakness if used against you properly.” One couldn’t be ultimately alone in this business, it wasn’t safe. Though neither was having a large posse of trusted people. One had to keep the numbers smaller, more select.

Martin’s head bobbed to the knowledge, taking in his father’s most recent lesson. The man who spoke up during the meeting could have been a threat, either then or later on. It was better that he was dead now. It kept anything bad from happening later. It was precaution, he knew that. He just… wasn’t good with dealing with it yet. 

The boy raised his hands to go for his notepad before pausing, putting them in front of his chest instead to try and sign something in return. Ed tapped on Oswald’s arm, gaining the smaller man’s attention so that Martin could be heard. “Yes, Martin, what is it?” Penguin asked. He didn’t know how to sign himself, but he could read it well enough, he had practice from his time with Zsasz. They made for excellent silent hand signals during meetings, stakeouts, and ambushes. 

Ed was in the process of learning sign language, having found it fascinating previously but now he had a reason to actively use it with the boy learning and Zsasz being fluent. Martin had actually confused Ed for signing several times before, the man in green often spoke with his hands actively moving about, making it rather confusing for the child at first. 

_“Are we done here now?”_ The boy signed carefully, still using rather small words in easier sentences, but he was getting his motions down pretty well. The body in the room wasn’t giving him any settling feelings, unlike his father and his father’s ‘friend’ who looked as though they were relaxing after a long day’s work. _“I’d like to leave.”_

Penguin nodded, hand extending to Ed to receive his cane. “Martin, that is a splendid idea. I’ll have Zsasz remove the body when he returns from seeing our guests out.” He decided, standing up from his chair with a noticeable sigh. He preferred only sitting when he could manage it, getting up and down several times was irritating to his sore joint. Oswald hobbled his way from his seat at the head of the table, walking on the side opposite of Mr. Ferrangi’s body. 

Ed grinned as he got up from his own seat, Martin not long after him. “Hey, Martin.” Edward got the boy’s attention, eyes alight with interest as he clearly had something on the forefront of his busy mind. “What can put the mind on ice, relieve the hot, and can’t be fried twice?” He quizzed the boy, offering Martin his hand to take.

Martin thought about it for a moment, hand soon jumping in front of his mouth. Hand held in a fist, he rotated his hand downwards as though licking an ice cream cone.

“Correct! Let’s go get some.” Ed encouraged, earning a smile from Martin as the two rushed ahead to leave the room.

Penguin rolled his eyes with a shake of his head. “Ed! It’s 10 in the morning, it isn’t even time for lunch.”

“He’s earned it, Oswald.” Ed decided, not about to stop now as he wouldn’t mind getting something himself. “And I worked up a sweat with that swing.” 

“You two are incorrigible.” Although his words expressed their difficulty, Penguin still smiled warmly, limping behind them. As if he was going to miss out on it if the two of them were going, he deserved a little something for his hard work that morning too.


End file.
